


Reunion on Ryloth

by Hokuto



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/pseuds/Hokuto
Summary: Rex is trying to recruit other brothers to join the cause.  One of them already has a friend in the Rebellion...Set during season 3, pre-"Zero Hour."





	Reunion on Ryloth

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of binge-watched all of Clone Wars and Rebels in about three weeks and now I have a lot of emotions, okay. CLONE EMOTIONS.
> 
> See end-notes for slightly more detailed content notes.

"So, I've been trying to contact all the brothers I can still find," Rex said, hands behind his back.

Sato blinked at the projection table in front of him, but it remained blurry. He ought to have gone to bed an hour ago. "I'm sorry?"

"We could use the extra troops, sir, especially ones who already have experience," Rex explained. "I've not had too much luck, though. Some of them are just - too old to fight anymore, even if they're willing. Accelerated aging and all. Some I couldn't get in touch with, or they've had enough of war. And some - I hate to say it of a brother, but some support the Empire, even after what it's done." He sighed, then straightened up. "But there are a few who agreed to join up!"

"That's good to hear," Sato said, "but why are you bringing this to me?"

"Ah - you see - one of them needs a ride..."

* * *

Boil had mostly had a good life, after the war. The Empire had retired him to Utapau for some reason, but the place hadn't agreed with him. Not when every time he passed by the cliffs or one of those squarking animals the order came in again, Commander Cody raised his blaster and so did the rest of them and the general on his mount went over the side again and again and -

Well, it was no way for a man to live, that was all, no matter the blood on his hands.

He'd worked enough to scrape some credits together and gotten off-world, ended up on a nice backwater planet with no proper name and a bunch of nerfs to look after. He was about as good at nerf-herding as he was at forgetting _good soldiers obey orders kill the Jedi obey orders OBEY_ , but he liked it better. It was peaceful, anyway; nerfs didn't need much, just good grazing and regular milking and sometimes a little help calving, and his boss handled the butchering while Boil took the rest of the herd somewhere they couldn't see or hear the mess. Nothing too exciting, other than the nerfs getting spooked by the wind and spitting over everything in range, and his neighbors were kind enough not to ask much of him. Nice folk. Brought him a few things from time to time, when they had spare - extra rations in a lean winter, a chair one daughter of the family had made herself, a few power cells - and he returned the favor when he could with nerf-hide and meat and milk.

It was a good life. He'd told himself so; a lot of days he had even believed it. And then Captain Rex had called.

Now...

He hung on to the safety bars as the ship yawed wildly and shouted over the struggling engines, "Is it too late to go back, Captain?"

"At this point? Yeah, I'd say so," Captain Rex yelled back. "Didn't realize you liked those nerfs so much!"

"Neither did I!"

The transport spiraled through a barrage of TIE fire and darted into the clouds of the upper atmosphere. Didn't make the ride any smoother; the TIEs didn't follow, but turbulent air currents still buffeted the ship, and Boil tightened his grip on the bars. "Can't say I thought I'd be seeing this place again," he said.

"Bring back memories?"

"One or two." Rough times, but some good ones, too. Breaking the siege, freeing hostages, retaking the capitol, knowing that what they were doing was _right_... The whole war had been simpler then. Or seemed like it.

From the cockpit, the pilot called back, "We're almost there! Hold on, I'm taking us into the canyons. It could get a bit - twisty."

Twists and bumps aside, somehow the ship landed safely among towering reddish cliffs, and the pilot lowered the landing ramp for them. "Sorry I can't stay and help you settle in," she said, "but I've got an urgent supply run coming up. My father should be over there, holding a strategic council," and she pointed towards a rounded building at the base of one cliff.

On the walk over, Boil got a good look at the rebels he'd be working with as they went about the daily life of a hide-out: hauling supplies, taking inventory, the usual busywork. Most of them looked like kids, and he touched his white mustache. "Lot of awfully young faces around here," he said. "Wonder if they can make it if it comes to a real war..."

"You know, it's a funny thing," Rex said. "A lot of them are probably about the same age as us, if you're counting by Standard years."

"Hey, we fought the Clone Wars. What we've got in experience is worth a lifetime or two."

"Yeah, of course. Just a bit odd when you think about it, is all." As they approached the building, Rex took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. "This is their first war, most of them, and they didn't get our training. I hope it'll be the last one they have to fight, too." He sighed. "Let's go on in, talk to the commander and see where you're needed."

Right outside the building, a small cluster of young Twi'leks had gathered, talking excitedly. One of them had bright turquoise skin that made Boil take a second look. Couldn't be, after everything - but then she turned away from the others, laughing, and he knew that smile, those wide cheeks and bright eyes. Some faces you just weren't meant to forget. "Actually, Captain, do you mind going on ahead? I think I see an old friend."

"All right," Rex said. "Catch up when you're ready."

After the captain had gone inside, Boil breathed in, sucked in his gut, and tried to stay calm as he walked towards the group. Probably wouldn't come to anything anyway. It had been too many years. Silly idea, really, he didn't know why he was bothering. Just - if there was one thing the war hadn't ruined... "Uh, excuse me, miss," he said, and the girl looked over at him. "Numa, right? It's - well, it's been a while. You probably don't remember, you were so little, but my friend Waxer and I, we -"

Her eyes grew bigger and bigger as he stumbled along, and at Waxer's name she gasped, then threw herself at him, squeezed him in a tremendous hug, and cried, "Brother!"

"Hey, kid," he said, smiling despite the stares from the other Twi'leks. "I, uh, I guess you do remember." Good thing he'd never gotten rid of that mustache.

"Of course! How could I forget you?" She squeezed him tightly one more time - damn, but she'd gotten strong! And tall, compared to the skinny little thing she'd been - then let him go. "You saved me and my parents, my world... I always hoped I would see my brothers again." She glanced around. "But where is your brother?"

Boil swallowed. "He's gone. Umbara." Another nightmare that had never left: the dark, the mines, the trap tentacles and impervious tanks and the mad general bellowing execution orders over their comms, brothers' blood on their own hands. "It was - it was a bad one. I got lucky; Waxer didn't."

Numa's eyes misted up. "I am so sorry," she said, and she took his hands in hers. They were rougher than he expected, but then, she was a rebel, not a dancer. "He was a kind man. You must miss him very much."

Waxer was the one who had talked about nerfs, about a life after the war. Boil had thought he'd mostly been joking, given the reputation of nerf-herders, but sometimes his voice had been softer, serious. Waxer had always done his duty, but he'd dreamed of more, too. A farm. Hard work, with hands and tools instead of blasters. Quiet sunsets and home-cooked meals, not rations. A kid or two running around the place, somehow, and maybe a couple of useless, cuddly animals for pets. Peace.

Waxer had dreamed, but Boil was the one who'd made it out. Some nerfs and the sunsets had been the only parts he could manage.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do."

They were quiet for a moment; then Numa released his hands and stepped back, wiping her eyes. "I am still happy that you came back," she said. "Are you here to help us, and free Ryloth once more?"

"That's the plan, anyway."

"Then," she said, "I will be honored to fight at your side, brother."

He straightened up and saluted her; bit rusty, but still passable. "The honor is all mine, sister."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also contains: brief war flashbacks/Order 66 references, turbulence.


End file.
